Ensconced in this secure, affluent and civilized American society, unknowingly, there grew a certain unsettling feeling within me. A feeling immortalized by an oft quoted Marathi poem which goes – “though pleasing, it makes me wistful and sad.” This was at two levels. It was a kind of mid-life crisis. One begins to ask oneself, “What do I really want to do? What do I want to achieve?” On another level, I was seized by a longing to go back to my roots and spend the rest of my life there. I felt I would be happier in the Indian environment, in the Indian social and cultural milieu. I also had a desire to somehow associate with social work in India. I felt I must connect with the grass root movements in India in some shape or form.

At the same time, I experienced a disquieting monotony in our life in America. Often, I felt we were hopping from one island to the other. Home, work place, friends’ homes, weekend trips, cultural activities, children’s soccer match – that was the pattern day in day out. These islands seemed to float in the vast, strange space that was America. I often remembered the words of Marathi poet Vasant Bapat. He wrote these in 1982.

Travel where you may, visit any hotel or motel ,Same form, same colors, same taste, same smell;Strange are the ways of this weird country,The individual is free – but prisoner is the society!

I was not alone – my wife too shared this feeling. And like a reflex action, the process of our journey back to India got set in motion one day. A year and a half went by from the moment of decision to the time we actually relocated to Pune. I had lived Mumbai before going to America. But we decided to settle in Pune. We visited a few schools first and secured admission in one a few months ahead of our final move. I decided to look for a job after landing in India. However, I did find one before leaving the USA.

2 Responses

Thanks Shankar! Vasant Bapat was an amazing creative artist. His range was awesome. He was also an activist who participated in the Indian freedom struggle and wrote quite a few ballads that became theme songs for the freedom fighters in Maharashtra. When I read his “Poems of Travel” (प्रवासाच्या कविता) where he chronicles his visit to the USA in the early eighties I was simply blown away by the relevance of those poems even in today’s times! I am glad that I could translate a tiny fraction of it to take it to the non Marathi folks. Regards. /Abhay